


The Lion King: Bad End

by Basson069



Category: The Lion King (1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anthropomorphic, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Bad Ending, Cock Worship, Everyone Is Gay, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Furry, Gangbang, Gay Sex, Humiliation, Incest, Large Cock, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Muscles, Public Humiliation, Size Difference, Size Kink, Small Penis, Submission, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Verbal Humiliation, musk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22625284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basson069/pseuds/Basson069
Summary: Simba returns to Pride Rock to challenge Scar for dominance and doesn't win. Gangbangs and wrestling ensues. Everyone is tall, muscular, and, anthro and muscular and has a massive cock. Except Simba. Also no girls allowed lmao sorry.
Relationships: Scar/Simba (The Lion King), Simba (The Lion King) & Other(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 104





	1. Prologue

Simba had stopped resisting weeks ago, but the last shreds of his pride, hidden somewhere far in the back of his lust ridden mind, would never allow him to say so out loud. Instead, he begrudgingly remained in the same position he had been in since he arrived back at Pride Rock: on all fours, being stuffed by cock like clockwork. The hyenas were as insatiable with their fucking as they were their eating, never allowing Simba a moments reprieve. As one hyena would empty his jizz-filled balls into Simba’s asshole, it seemed that two more were always at the ready to enter him, if not from behind then from the front. The once proud Prince of Pride Rock had grown accustomed to taking the thick hyena cocks down his throat. As the days progressed, he found the best way to cycle through them was to never close his mouth. When the cock he was deepthroating finished down his gullet, he simply rolled his tongue out and waited patiently for the next hyena he would service. This, it appeared to be, was his new life. Simba was nothing more than a cocksleeve for the hyenas that now dominated the lands.

This was true for the rest of the lions as well. As their prince fell to Scar’s cock, so too did the rest of the lions. They had tried to come to the defense of their almost-king, but had been met with a fierce resistance by the hyenas. The lions were outnumbered three-to-one. Each lion had two or more hyenas to deal with. Soon, all the lions were fucked into submission, their minds lost in the endless cycle of fucking that ensued in the following weeks. Even after a lion was broken, he could expect another month of hyena cock stuffing him. No lion was released until the musk of hyena cum permanently tainted their fur. By then, they were trained cumsluts, loyal only to the long, thick cocks of the hyenas that now ruled Pride Rock. And Simba was almost no different. After being thoroughly dominated by his uncle, Simba had been thrown to the hyena horde for conditioning. Scar was ever present, watching with satisfaction from a distance, clearly enjoying the sights and sounds of his nephew being brutally fucked.

The hyenas worked over the defeated prince thoroughly. For days, weeks, months (Simba had honestly lost track of time by this point), Simba was filled with cock. The only reprieve he got was the occasional meal or sleep, until the hyenas descended upon him again. Simba’s asshole was stretched daily. Cock after cock pumped in and out of him, filling his body with painful pleasure. It wasn’t long before he began to fully enjoy it though. Pleasure racked his body, masking whatever ill will he had towards the hyenas. The cocks inside him felt amazing, how could he possibly hate something that gave him so much happiness? Simba’s days became a blur of cock. He came more times than he could ever hope to keep track of, constantly being milked of his seed until he thought he could cum no more. Even when he thought his balls were empty, a clever hyena would fuck another stream of jizz out of Simba.

Yes, Simba was growing accustomed to this constant barrage of pleasure on his body. Perhaps he would come out the other side unscathed? If anything, just thoroughly fucked. Simba would find his moment to escape and, maybe after some time, work towards overthrowing his uncle! As if Scar had observed this glimmer of hope from afar, he made his move to crush it that very moment.

The zebras arrived as requested right after sunrise. As naked as the day they were born, Simba was able to drink in the sight of them from afar. The young prince counted four of them, each as lean and muscular as the last, walking on hooved legs with power and purpose. Between those legs swayed cocks easily as large as any he had taken in the past few months, even though they were still flaccid. Pride Rock, which was usually filled with the wet slapping sounds of fucking and pleasured screams of broken lions, was completely silent. All eyes were flicking between the zebras approaching and the doomed prince.

Simba’s heart-rate increased. Of course he wanted their cocks, of course he wanted to guzzle their cum, but he knew that if he allowed the zebras to have their way with him, he would break completely and never overthrow his uncle. The hyenas sensed his apprehension and gathered around Simba in a circle. On all sides the prince was surrounded by a wall of muscled fur and cock. With no way out, Simba rose to his feet and prepared himself for the worst. If he were going to face the zebras, he’d face them on his feet and with a fight. The sea of hyenas parted and out came his foes: four muscle-bound striped equines sporting throbbing erections, ready to fuck Simba stupid. Ready to mold his mind into the shape of their cocks. Simba tried to show confidence and take a step forward, as a show of dominance. That he wasn’t scared. As he did though, he felt a fresh pool of cum ooze out of his loose and bruised asshole.

The lion prince flexed and refocused his thoughts to face his four opponents. Should he fail to stave off their sexual attack, he would truly be finished. Simba would forever lose his birthright, spending the rest of his life as a cocksleeve. Simba mentally made note of how his physique differed from that of his four opponents: each had biceps as big as Simba’s head, and while Simba himself still had some cut myself to speak of, his stomach was nowhere near as carved as theirs anymore. Months on his hands and knees, devoted to cock, had given him somewhat of a gut. The zebras were also taller, each well over six inches above the prince. What stuck out to Simba the most, however, was their difference in manhoods: the zebras each lived up to the “horse cock” stereotype, hanging flaccid and thick at what must have easily been more than seven inches long each. They gleamed black under the African sun. Each monstrous cock came with a heavy set of balls as well, each as large around as a grapefruit. Simba’s own cock was a shriveled two inches at the moment.

“My dear nephew, I give you your one chance for redemption today!” Scar’s voice boomed above the crowd of hyenas. He stood dominantly above all. His thick uncut cock hung much lower than Simba’s own. It was a cock that the young prince was all to familiar with. He tried in vain to tear his focus away from it, but failed. His eyes remained on Scar’s cock while he spoke. “Four rounds. Four opponents. A fight for sexual dominance!” Cheers and hollers came up from the large crowd that now circled Simba and the four zebras. It was composed equal parts of hyenas and lions, though only one of the two groups was really doing any watching. The hyenas had taken to the roles of being the new apex alpha predators with ease. Within the crowd, each hyena had brought their favorite lion cocksleeve to entertain them while they watched. Simba observed one hyena sat smugly atop the face of one lion. His plump and spread ass fit perfectly around the lion slut’s features. The hyena winked at Simba and gave his girthy cock a lazy stroke. Another muscular hyena had a lion bent over doggy-style, dominantly plunging his cock into his cocksleeve’s asshole.

“To win the round, one must force the other to either cum or submit. I am feeling most generous today Simba: to win completely and earn your freedom, you need only win one round. Fail to come out on top at all?” Scar smirked and hyenas laughed. Simba knew what would happen. All would be lost. The young prince was being given one last chance to overcome his fall from grace. The cum-stained and musk-ridden lion was being given one last chance to prove that he was more than just a cocksleeve. Simba was being given a chance to prove he was the rightful ruler of the Pride and Pride Rock. He could take this freedom and turn his life around for good. Simba steeled himself and set into a fighting stance as a single zebra stepped forward, a smirk across his ruggedly handsome features.


	2. Round One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round one of the end for Simba begins.

Simba’s nose is sat snugly up against his first opponent’s puffy asshole in no time. Muscular black-and-white striped thighs secured his arms firmly to the ground, ensuring the lion prince was in no position to escape. The zebra gave his fat ass a slap and chuckled.

“My prince, I had no idea you were so fond of zebra asshole!” The voluptuous zebra taunted. A wave of laughter erupted from the hyenas watching and Simba thrashed wildly, but was unable to push the equine’s dominant fat ass off of his face. “Your warm, desperate breath feels wonderful against my hole! Breathe me in and seal your fate young lion! The more of my musk you inhale, the more you fall under my dominant control!

Simba knew that was the truth. Already he could feel the zebra’s potent musk dulling his senses. Each adrenaline-fueled breath sucked more of the poison into Simba’s mind. In the hot African sun, the muscular zebra had worked up quite a sweat. With that sweat came the heady aroma currently drowning the young prince. The zebra slowly began to gyrate his hips and move his plump ass in a circular motion. Locked between those fat cheeks, Simba had no control over his face being moved as well. Each circular twirl nuzzled the doomed lion’s muzzle further up into the zebra’s ass.

Simba squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus. He focused on his pride. He focused on his lineage, his father’s death. He searched in his mind for a motivation to keep holding on. Simba thought about Scar’s control over Pride Rock, and how he had failed the once proud lions. Even now, through the muffling of ass and over the hyena’s laughter, Simba could hear his fellow lions being fucked and used like toys. They were all relying on him to succeed! This was bigger than just himself! Simba had to fight back! Not just for himself, but for every lion looking up to him as their rightful ruler!

Simba called upon all the strength he had left in him. In a miraculous moment of will power, the zebra is tossed to the ground by the young lion. Simba stood in a hurry, readying himself for a fight. This was his moment. This was his chance to turn the tide. All Simba had to do was capitalize on this moment and freedom was his. After that? Simba could work to restore Pride Rock back to its former glory!

“This ends today! For too long I have allowed Scar to corrupt and pervert these lands with his rule! No longer will the lion be submissive on the bottom of the food chain! In the name of my father, we as lions will-,” Simba gasped and his eyes rolled back into his head. His gasp turned into a moan, which brought a new wave of laughter from the hyenas. Simba had been so distracted in his effort to rally the other lions that he hadn’t noticed his opponent had rushed him. A firm and strong hand now gripped Simba’s cock and balls.

“The only “daddy” you should be thinking about right now, slut, is me!” The zebra asserted his dominance even further over the moaning prince. “Scar told us all about you, prince! We know that in your time as a hyena cocksleeve? They never touched this itty bitty cock once! You are just dying for a skilled hand to work cum out of this baby dick aren’t you?” To emphasize his point, the zebra took two fingers and began to rub up and down Simba’s tiny shaft. The young lion’s mind went into overdrive. The skilled fingers worked his short member up and down. This stimulation, paired with the ever present musk of his opponent, sealed Simba’s fate.

“Give up slut,” the zebra whispered into Simba’s ear. With his other free hand, he slowly stroked Simba’s mane. “Give me your orgasm, so you can be one step closer to what you truly desire: a fat, thick, juicy horsecock.” Simba’s eyes went wide as the zebra continued. “You know its true. These hyenas are well endowed, certainly more so than your little pecker. But do they really compare to a veiny horse dick? I think the reason you haven’t really been broken yet is because we haven’t gotten our daddy dicks inside of you yet. When all 13 inches of us penetrate you-” Simba’s eyes rolled back into his head and his tongue rolled out at the zebra’s words. “-you’ll truly be our bitch!”

With those final words, the zebra unhanded Simba’s cock. With his other hand still on the lion’s mane, he shoved the prince’s face back up into his fat ass. Simba’s cock erupts, untouched.


	3. Round Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round two and Simba swears he's trying his hardest to fight back. Is he really though?

The next zebra for Simba to face had already stepped up by the time the young lion had come to his senses. He shook himself out of his post-orgasmic haze and was immediately met with a face full of thick, black horsecock. The flaccid shaft was slapped across the young prince’s face in such a way that Simba’s nose was now pressed into the spot where the shaft met the zebra’s balls. Simba’s gasp of surprise sealed his fate, sending a breath of dominant breeding musk into his brain. The smell of puffy zebra asshole was still fresh in Simba’s nose. Combined now with the heavy balls of his next opponent, Simba’s eyes began to go cross.

“My brothers and I will mold your asshole into the shape of our cocks,” the zebra taunted. “By the time we’re done with you, you’ll have a pussy. By the time we’re done sculpting your pussy with our cocks, it’ll take two or three hyena cocks just to properly fill you up!”

A chill ran up Simba’s spine and he shuddered at the zebra’s words. He knew in his heart that his opponent’s words were true. If the young lion allowed himself to be penetrated by any one of these zebras, any last semblance of his resistance would crumble. His fall from grace would be complete. In one quick movement, Simba moved his head out from under the equine cock and sucked the tip into his mouth. This elicited a laugh from the zebra, who made no moves to resist.

“Look at your mighty prince, lions! One sniff of my balls, and he’s as good a whore as any!” The zebra boasted. “One breath of my brother’s asshole and he submits like the inferior man that he is!” Hyenas cheered as Simba struggled to work more and more of the zebra’s massive cock into his mouth. He ignores the taunts as best as he can as he works to fulfill his plan. If Simba can use the zebra’s cockiness against him, he can get the boastful equine to cum down his throat. Simba knows he can win this round and his freedom. He only has to stay focused.

“Look how he sucks the cock of a superior man!” A firm hand grips the back of Simba’s head and slowly forces more and more of the meaty horsecock into his gullet. “Is this not the natural place of the lion? On his knees and servicing cock? Not even your prince tries to resist his rightful place. He knows he cannot overcome the dominant musk of a superior man!”

As the zebra says this, the full weight of his situation washes anew across Simba’s mind. His eyes begin to water as more cock is swallowed down his throat. The intoxicating musk emanating off his opponent causes Simba’s cock to spring to life, much to the amusement of his tormentor.

“Fighting for your freedom and you just can’t help yourself, can you, slut?” Simba’s head is shoved down another inch. “Lose yourself to your own cocklust.” The musk washes into Simba’s senses. His eyelids begin to droop. “This is your purpose. This is your pleasure. No pain, only cock. No responsibilities, only cum.” Simba becomes faintly aware that a hand is now slowly jerking him off. Two skilled fingers move up and down his tiny shaft. Simba moans around the horsecock in his mouth. The taste works in tandem with the smell to punish Simba’s senses. The young prince knows he can’t give up, but the more and more he tastes of the zebra’s cock, the more it takes hold of his mind.

“That’s right, slut! Jerk yourself off! Make yourself cum for the real man! Give me your cum, bitch!” The zebra’s words barely reached Simba’s ears. The young lion was so drunk on the cock in his mouth that he didn’t realize that he was taking himself to his own doom. Every stroke took him further and further away from his freedom, and further and further under the control of these well endowed zebras.

Simba’s eyes slowly moved up the muscular body of his tormentor. The drunk prince slowly drank in each and every flexed muscle currently subjugating him. Veins and muscles popped under the fur of the tall of zebra, leading up to a chiseled jawline and a knowing smirk. The zebra never stopped humping Simba’s face, but did move his hands away from the young lion’s head to make a show of flexing his biceps. Simba’s tiny cock had finally had enough. A tiny shot of cum released and Simba moaned in pleasure. At that same moment, the horsecock down his throat slipped out and was pointed at his face. In an effort to catch his breath, Simba’s mouth had fallen wide open to suck in air. Still flexing, the dominant zebra released his seed onto his defeated opponent. Rope after rope of thick, creamy cum shout out across Simba’s face. His once majestic mane was soon filled with globs of white cum. The zebra’s cock trembled and shot load after load. Simba had never seen so much cum come out of a man in his life. It took five hyenas to produce the amount of cum that now drenched the defeated lion.

Simba’s senses went into overload. The musk of ass and balls and cock, and now cum, caused his eyes to go cross. He fell forward onto the soft grass, face down and ass up. His mind swirled, thrown about by the delicious concoction of musk and cum on his face. Simba hardly noticed the cheer of the hyenas around him as the next zebra brother stepped forward.


	4. Power Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simba learns a new term: "Power Bottom".

Simba stumbled to his feet in a haze. The world around him swirled in a mess of assaults on his senses: the laughter of the hyenas and the faint moans of the lions being subjected to an assortment of sexual tortures. The scent of sex clung to Simba like sweat to a body on a hot summer day. Through his blurred vision, the young prince could just barely begin to make out the outline of his next opponent. It was the same as the last two had been: taller than Simba, more muscular than Simba, with a flaccid cock three times the size as the lion’s own. Simba knew he was sexually outmatched in every way and to go toe-to-toe against that superior black cock would end the round in mere moments. But what if the young prince could force a submission? As a predator, his physical prowess was something that had kept him alive and fed since his initial banishment all those years ago. In most any other situation, the zebra would be quaking in fear and running for his life! Simba clenches his fists and tries his best to refocus himself. His vision straightened out as his next zebra opponent came to a stop a few feet away from the lion. “Reclaim your pride…” Simba whispered to himself under his breath.

The zebra noticed Simba’s newfound concentration and opened his mouth to taunt him. Before a word could get out, he is on the ground, tackled to the dirt by the young prince. The hyenas, who had up until that point been laughing and jeering, fell silent. Simba’s predator instinct took over, and the young lion was able to work the zebra over. Flesh braced against flesh and furry muscle flexed in effort. In an effort to get an edge over his larger opponent, Simba’s hand flew down to grip the veiny horsecock left out in the open and exposed by their wrestling. Simba’s other arm positioned itself against the zebra’s neck to hold him in place. A moan escaped the striped equine and his eyes shut in pleasure as Simba’s hand worked the cock up and down.

The eager young lion worked fervently on the larger cock, pumping it up and down with skill and focus. The hyenas and other zebras watching began to stir in worry, a murmur going up in the crowd. Was this it? Was the young prince really about to pull himself out of sexual bondage and earn his freedom? The lion slaves watched eagerly in silence, allowing their hopes to rise for the first time in years.

Above everyone, lounging lazily in the hot African sun, was Scar. He watched from his perch with an amused and knowing smile. He had overseen from a distance his nephew’s sexual tortures the last few months. While Simba’s own memory was hazy and awash in cum and hard fuckings, Scar’s was still as sharp as ever. The older lion remembered the few times Simba had tried to resist at the beginning of his time at the newly overseen Pride Rock. Each time ended the same, with a circle of hyenas drowning the rebellious prince in cum and cock. What was happening at the moment was no different. Scar sighed contently and lazily stroked his cock. His eager young nephew had just flipped the zebra onto his stomach and mounted him. Scar couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. _So close, and the damn slut just couldn’t help himself._

The surprised zebra barely contained the laugh that threatened to escape his lips when the lion’s hips slapped against his plump ass. Simba plunged all two-and-a-half inches of his hard cock into his “defeated” foes ass. He moaned as the warm asshole sucked him in and held him in place. The “victorious” lion shut his eyes in pleasure and slowly started to rock his hips forward. Simba had no way of knowing he was humping himself towards his own defeat. In his mind, he was finally on top and working the zebra underneath him towards a prostate-stimulated orgasm. So gone was the young prince that he wasn’t self-aware enough to realize he was too small to hit the zebra’s prostate, much less make him feel anything at all. The zebra’s tight, puffy asshole swallowed Simba and kept him in place. The “defeated” zebra made sure to give a generous squeeze of the muscles in his ass to give pleasure to the “victorious” prince. Simba’s eyes went cross and his tongue rolled out of his mouth as he increased the speed of his humping. The sound of his slapping hips was so prominent that the eager young lion did not hear the low snickering of the hyenas around him. Their comments never reached Simba’s ears, but they came one by one nonetheless.

The zebra howled with laughter as he felt a short squirt of cum in his asshole. Simba moaned in ecstasy, having fucked himself stupid on the zebra’s dominant asshole. 

“Give it to me prince! Give in to my asshole! Its hungry for your cum! It wants to be filled!” The zebra theatrically moaned between laughs. “Let my asshole turn your brain to mush!” Simba’s mind slipped further and further away the more he squirted into the dominant asshole sucking his cock. For the first time in months, Simba was the one on top! Simba had control. These thoughts of fake domination and control hid the truth from Simba. In his own mind, he had already earned his freedom. In his own mind, Simba had made his father proud. He moaned again as the final squirt left his tiny cock. He had lost this third round and not even realized it yet. That wouldn’t matter, with what was coming next. Simba already had a heroic monologue prepared. A speech to rally the lions to him and revolt. His mind was so focused on his “victory”, that he didn’t notice his fourth and final opponent had already lined himself up right behind Simba. The young prince’s fate was as good as sealed.


	5. Round Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End for Simba

The zebra’s fat, flared head gently kissed Simba’s puckered, abused asshole. Still in the aftermath of his own orgasm, the young prince moaned with reckless abandon and rocked his hips back against the massive member now asking for entrance. A zebra each grabbed Simba’s arms now while the third began to slowly pulse his skilled asshole. Simba’s cock stayed hard and the continued stimulation drove the lion over the edge. His eyes went cross and his tongue rolled out of his mouth. Another kiss to Simba’s puckered back door and a dumb smile broke across his face. He was disconnected now from reality that he didn’t even notice the orgy that had broken out all around him. The hyenas had seen enough; they knew it was all over. The lions didn’t even fight back. Hope had vanished with Simba’s tiny orgasm. Each and every lion was now resigned to lives as cock sleeves. In time, their minds would break the same as Simba’s just had. They would come to enjoy their new position in life: sex toys for a horde of horny hyenas. Moans filled the air as, one by one, each lion submitted fully to their master’s cocks. One by one, brains turned to mush and free will was fucked roughly and skillfully from each of the lions on Pride Rock. The air filled with the scent of sex.

If Simba noticed, he didn’t show it. He was too lost in the musky, dominant zebras who now had a hold on him. Two sets of strong arms held him in place while a skilled asshole milked his undersized cock for all its worth. At two-and-a-half inches, it wasn’t worth much. Behind the prince, the final zebra, the final opponent, kept pressing his flared head teasingly against Simba’s entrance. Small kisses against Simba’s ruined hole, wet with pre-cum. The zebra’s shaft was an impressive twenty-two inches long. Veins pulsed along the girthy length, and a sheen of sweat upon it shown under the hot sun. Simba’s asshole was used and abused, which for any other cock would mean easy access. However, the final zebra was happy to see that his flared head was met with a tremendous amount of resistance when more pressure was applied to entering the fallen prince. A smirk crossed the equine’s features: the lion had truly never taken anything as big as his cock before. To the zebra, this may as well be a virgin hole.

Simba is wrapped in pleasure. Moans cascade from his mouth with abandon. The young prince’s mind crumbles with each kiss to his asshole and each flex from the zebra around his tiny cock. In one last ditch effort to save himself, Simba sees in his mind, high above him in the sky, a lone cloud. From that cloud, an image of his father emerges: proud, tall and muscular. Mufasa floats just beyond the prince. Guilt washes over Simba.

“I f-failed you father…” Simba barely mutters between moans. “I failed our p-people…”

“No my son,” Mufasa smiles, surprising the prince. “This is exactly as it was always meant to be! I knew from the moment you came into the world, this is where you were truly meant to be, and I could not be prouder!” Mufasa takes his cock between his two fingers and slowly starts to stroke his shaft. Only now does Simba notice how undersized and tiny his own father’s cock is too. “You and I are one in the same, my son! Men like us? Are not men at all. Those blessed with endowments thicker and larger naturally belong over us and inside of us. My son it warms my heart and my own cock to see you as the cocksleeve I knew you could be! These zebras do you a favor Simba. Let their thick, musky cocks take you to paradise!” As if he were listening in on the conversation, the zebra behind Simba presses the head of his cock past Simba’s tight entrance. The prince’s eyes go wide and a gasp erupts from his trembling lips.

“A real man is inside you now Simba. A real man who is so deserving of pleasure and worship. Flex your pussy for him, my son! Milk his thick monster for all its worth!” At Mufasa’s encouragement, Simba does just that. This earns him a rough smack to his ass and a moan from the endowed equine inside of him. Six more inches is planted up Simba’s ass and his body erupts in shivers and spasms. Never in his life has Simba ever felt so completely and utterly full before. With no effort at all and by simply shoving his cock inside of him, this zebra has thoroughly and completely fucked Simba stupid.

“He’s only eight inches inside of you and he’s not even half way there, my son! Let yourself break on his cock! Let his cock own you, defeat you. You’ve been struggling for so long Simba. You’ve been wrongly resisting for years, but look at what defeat gives you! Feel what this meaty shaft has to offer! If you would only give up, this could be your every waking moment, for the rest of your life!” Simba orgasms as another three inches goes inside of him. Mufasa’s words wash over the prince. Truth hits his ears for the first time in his life. “Men like us could never give pleasure the way these dominant alphas do! We were born to be holes. We were born to be sleeves. We were born to warm cocks and milk cum from real alphas.”

“Y-yes f-father… I u-understand n-now…” Simba gasps out. Fifteen inches is now inside of him. Simba cums again, his cock now shriveling to a size too small to fit past the zebra’s fat ass cheeks. The bent over zebra laughs as he feels Simba’s cock slip out of his puffy ass. At the same time, the zebra inside of the young prince begins to thrust in and out of the lion’s abused hole. Simba trembles so violently that if it were not for the two zebras holding him in place, the rough fucking would knock him to the ground.

“I leave you with this my son: a king should never be one like yourself, a cocksleeve with an undersized cock. A tiny cock like yours and mine could never dominate or rule.” Simba’s vision of his father begins to fade. “From this day onward, your cock is never to be touched again unless by an alpha. All of your pleasure will come from being a sleeve and a hole, bent over and obedient to any man who outsizes you. Goodbye Simba, continue to make me proud!”

“Y-yes father…” Simba gasps out between moans. The zebra fucking Simba harshly smacks his ass again and laughs upon hearing the lion’s weak muttering.

“Thinking about dear old daddy our we, boy?” The zebra inside of Simba taunts as he thrusts. The other three respond with laughter of their own.

“No ‘daddy’ here to save you little prince!”

“Just us and a horde of hyenas, boy!”

“You like us though, don’t you, baby dick?”

“Yeah you put up quite the little ‘challenge’ didn’t you? Did you really think you and that little micro penis of yours could stand up to us?”

More laughter and all Simba can do is whine louder as he’s fucked harder.

“I think this is what you’ve wanted all along! I think Scar sent us to break you, but you were already broken. Maybe he just wanted some entertainment?”

“Or maybe he just wanted to permanently melt this little boy’s mind. For good.” The zebra inside of Simba snickers at this comment and stops fucking. Simba doesn’t even try to hide his disappointment. A handful of Simba’s mane is grabbed. “Let’s turn this cocksleeve’s mind to mush now, shall we boys?” The other three zebras nod in agreement and move in unison, smiles on their faces.

The two zebras flanking Simba each raise an arm over their heads. A new musk rolls into the air and penetrates Simba’s nose. After a long day in the hot sun of rough housing and fucking, the two armpits on either side of Simba have accumulated a distinct and heavy musk. Simba inhales again and begins to panic. This new musk is different, more penetrating than just the stink of sex. He knows if this musk grabs ahold of him, he’ll never turn back. The zebra that was on his hands and knees taking Simba’s undersized mini-dick just moments ago stands up and bends his knees, jutting his ass out. He reaches back and spreads his fat ass, revealing a puffy asshole leaking with cum. Simba’s cum.

“Drink up bitch boy!” Simba’s mouth falls open without another word. The hand on his mane moves him forward, but Simba doesn’t need much encouragement. He closes his mouth around the zebra’s asshole and sucks. The lion’s tongue flicks out and he tastes himself on the sweaty asshole before him. “There you go prince! Make out with it! Show it love! This is the first and last ass you’ll ever be inside of! Show it appreciation!” Simba moans as he practically kisses the asshole, licking and sucking like a horny teenager. On either side of him, the two sweaty armpits move in and trap Simba in a sweaty prison. A prison of stink and musk. Simba breathes and is met with only the ass before him and the armpits on either side of him. The zebra behind him begins to thrust again. After so long with the horsecock inside of him, Simba has adjusted to taking more of it. All twenty-two inches are now planted firmly within the fallen prince. A bulge has emerged in Simba’s stomach.

In this moment the feline’s brain snaps. In place of thoughts are pleasure. In place of critical thinking are orgasms. The lion forgets who he is in that moment. In this sea of sex and pleasure, he is just another lion underneath the sexual dominance of Scar. Splattered in cum and moaning, he looks no different than any other lion. He has no name, only two holes and a micro-penis. He has no identity, only a yearning to pleasure men bigger than he is. Why would he need a name when he has an asshole before him to suck? Why would he need to think when two sweaty armpits so easily give him their musk? Most of all, what does anything else in the world really matter when twenty-two inches of horsecock are planted firmly inside of you? This lion, no more unique and no more special than any other lion, is perfectly content. The lion with no name closes his eyes and lets his world shrink. He lets his world shrink to just cock. Asshole. Armpits. Sweat. Musk. Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters.

***

Scars walks over the passed out bodies. Hundreds them, hyenas and lions alike, all with limbs intertwined. Scar spots several hyenas with cocks still inside the asshole of their chosen cock sluts. He smiles and inhales deeply the scent of sex. A shudder runs through his body. He arrives at the center of the mass of bodies to find his nephew, covered with horse semen and passed out from exhaustion. Poor, defiant Simba. Scar makes note of his nephew’s flaccid cock and compares it with his own flaccid shaft hanging low between his thighs. The older lion smiles as he notes he’s easily three times as thick and six times as long as the younger lion’s shriveled cock. Scar sighs to himself. After all this time, the last piece of resistance in all the surrounding land that could possibly challenge him for the throne is flopped out before him with an abused, gaping asshole and a brain turned to mush. All this fun was about to come to an end. Scar strokes his cock until its hard and easily pushes it into his nephew’s asshole. He meets no resistance, greeted easily by the warmth now engulfing his length. The unconscious body he’s just entered doesn’t even flinch. In fact, a small moan escapes the younger lion’s lips, though he doesn’t stir.

Scar doesn’t fuck Simba. His young nephew hasn’t earned a thorough fucking from the now unchallenged king of Pride Rock. Scar’s cock is a gift from the heavens and something Simba is so lucky to simply be around. Instead, Scar keeps the head of his cock lodged just past Simba’s puckered ring and starts to jerk himself off. He takes his time, enjoying every delicious stroke of his hand. With a guttural moan, Scar empties his seed into Simba’s already used hole. Rope after rope of thick, heavy cum paints the inside of Simba’s ass. It is Scar’s ultimate mark of territory, his final stamp of victory. By the time Simba wakes up, he’ll be the same as every other lion in the land: a fucked out sleeve, two holes made for fucking and fucking only. A lion that can’t even remember his own name. A fallen prince lost in an ocean of musk and cock, never to resurface. Always drowning in bliss. Never to resurface.


	6. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end for young Simba, and the beginning for Pride Rock's prized toy.

From far and wide, different animals from all parts of Africa travel to Pride Rock. It becomes almost like a pilgrimage, except it isn’t exclusive to just once a year. Elephants, rhinoceroses, zebras, antelopes, gnus, and many more flock to experience the new culture of Pride Rock. The new culture is sex: twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, a near constant orgy runs the lands. All animals enjoy the wealth and lavish lifestyle that Pride Rock now has to offer, as well as the taboo delights that come with the visit. All animals, except lions. If the lions of Pride Rock are not off hunting and scavenging for food, they are bent over and taking cock. It is a sexual paradise, where each visitor and resident has at the very least two holes at their disposal at all times. Many critiques of Scar’s hostile take over had prophesized famine and drought and conflict under the older lion’s rule. However, with all the lion’s broken and drooling at the sight of any cock within their sight, Scar was able to utilize these broken cock sleeves to run his new kingdom efficiently. Nobody who arrived at Pride Rock could threaten his rule anyways. Many who had arrived with bad intentions for the new king had changed their mind after the first inhale of musk and sex. After their first use of a broken lion slut, what wrong could Scar possibly be doing? Why should he be stopped? So much pleasure, so much ecstasy, it would be a crime to bring it to an end.

Besides, how could they ever hope to challenge Scar’s rule? Rumors swirled about the lands of a challenger, many years ago. A banished prince who had returned to claim his rightful throne. The story of this young lion was told in whispers, between harsh thrusts and intense orgasms. New visitors always asked the lion cock sleeves the same questions: who was he? How did he fail? Where is he now? It was a lost cause, however. None of the lions could even tell the guests their own names, let alone the name of a single lion who had tried to usurp the throne five years ago. So this lone lion remained just that, nobody. A figure lost to time in a sea of cum and cock. He could have been any of the lions on Pride Rock. In many ways, he represented all of them. Sex toys drunk on their own orgasms and abused assholes. To fuck any of the lions was to fuck the last resistor to Scar’s rule. Just like every lion at this point, his name didn’t matter. Just his holes.

Only one lion ever hesitated when asked those questions. Only one of the lion cock sluts ever looked like he had a moment of lucidity, before his eyes glazed over again and he lost all focus. This particular lion was a favorite to many of the guests who came to Pride Rock, and he had been for several years. His tiny, undersized cock always provided a good laugh to the alpha that chose to use him that day. It became almost an unspoken rule for this lion, when he was being passed between cocks, that his own cock should go untouched. For many returning guests it was almost like a game, always checking in with others to ask if this lion’s micro-penis had been touched. As they entered year six since the last resistance, many guests were delighted to hear that this particular lion would never even get hard anymore. This made him now more than just a toy, but a challenge. One particular elephant planted all thirty inches of his cock inside the toy, fucking him ruthlessly in an effort to get an erection out of him. The lion didn’t budge and his tiny cock never stirred, instead staying shriveled and useless. A herd of zebras came through for a week and made the lion drink from their cocks exclusively. If the lion was thirsty, he would have to jerk off a horsecock for a refreshment. After all this abuse, he still never got hard.

The story of Simba the prince, Simba the next in line to the throne, had ended. With his brain rewired for cock and cock only, Simba was no more. His own body had even excepted this fate. His mind melted into mush in the presence of musk and cock. Even something as simple as an armpit had the former prince watering at the mouth in an instant. Thoughts of resisting, or any thoughts at all for that matter, were nowhere to be found in the fallen lion’s head. Why would they be needed anyways? Thoughts weren’t for sluts. Cocks were for sluts. Licking the sweaty assholes of real men was something a slut was made for, not thinking. And so it went on like this, year after year, season after season.

For all those visiting Pride Rock, it was encouraged that they pay tribute to the king upon arrival. You could find him high above all others in his later year, sitting on his throne: the face of one unidentified lion, doomed to breathe in his king’s asshole until his dying day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you all have any requests, feel free to reach out with me and share them. I am considering opening a Patreon or something and would love to take commissions in the future. Give me feedback on what you thought of this fanfic!

**Author's Note:**

> Will add more chapters when I get more time. I threw this fic together because I got horny. I have some general ideas for how I want the fic to go and what I want to happen in the different rounds. Feel free to give me critique or shout out some ideas if you have any!


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